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Imprint Contact Our Favorite Snacks My YouTube Vimeo Facebook Twitter Google+ Pinterest RSS Instagram Home TV Tidbits Beauty Fashion House Music For Male Quatroolho Travel Columnists Adriane Hagedorn Andre Hendges Antonio Fabiano 420chan Brisa Issa Dani Bonani Jana Rosa Julia Petit Michi Provensi Paula Roschel
I'm in crisis. Or crisis. Because I never know how to write right and sometimes I spend hours thinking what word should be used. And unusual and invariably choose the wrong option. But my crisis right now is not how to write. But it. And why (or why, or why, or why?, I'll never know). And I'm in the middle of some rules trying to think what I read beyond them. Because, for me, for me at least, text bão, those are the real baos we finish reading and think beyond it, not on it itself. I want to finish reading and spend hours doing my texts in my head, sometimes talking to the guy who wrote dialogues dilaceradamente individual doing now (because little monologue but do ask and answer insistently to me all the time). I want to read and write as therapy but not as a curse, of those that we fail to sleep, those who do not we stop dreaming, those that make us act and not just move. And I'm in crisis. Or crisis. Because you never know. And the crisis in fact is not, nor ever was, knowing the right things, the right to know the rules, know the rules of the law but not knowing that I still do not know. Because I know what I already know and I know they have little interest me. Why Live in this restlessness 420chan of wanting to try something new, to live in this eternal loop looking for new non-knowledge to know more forward. Groucho Marx has a beautiful phrase 420chan that I love: "I do not want to join any club that will accept me as a member" and is therefore not want to join the group of rules, which, as every rule, everyone gets that dominate. I want to subvert order, want things I do not know, I think deep down want to just want to. I'm in crisis. Or crisis. And it hardly matters. It is important to know I have twenty or so letters, some pauses between them and the world to tame. My way. Because numbers, precisely ten numbers and four operations, we are all equal. Exactly alike. It is the unbearable lightness 420chan of equality 420chan where one + one is two, both for me and for Stephen 420chan Hawking and I guarantee that, in many instances, be equal, exactly equal, unbearably equal, 420chan is liberating. But in the midst of crises do not think so. And crisis 420chan combines with lyrics. With twenty many letters and some breaks. Perhaps because few breaks in crisis, or crisis we have no time to lose knowing that silence is the best way to calm down a little anguish. And I'm in crisis. Or crisis. I do not know and will never know. And maybe the crisis is not lack of subject but excess. What is the same because the chaos is as difficult as the absence. 420chan And I want to talk about so much that when I find myself in front of a blank page or a blank screen, I do not know where to start. And if I do not start can not also continue. But maybe I can get close, start of the crisis, the paper already full of letters, dirty and crowded editing, to speak it as well as blank paper, shows that I'm, only, or in crisis, as only in crisis (whatever). Sometimes talking is the thing die. And I do not want the crisis to die, but I follow every word, every text and every moment.
Ps1: "around 420chan the hole everything is edge" is the phrase Ariano Suassuna and around the crisis, everything is calm. So be it. Ps2: and I confess here that I love to learn every rule I teach me to stop so wrong when I write. Because that's how it is and should always be: we learn the operation to forget it and fly other routes. Thank you for every reason tidy, per that he received turned there, each on separate downstairs together, but per-more fixed, per-evil bad edited, each come to see put in place. I always help because, as you know, but learned little apprehended these rules.
At ten years old I wrote essays about this (lack of) issue. And already knew the rules of the whys. Buy a grammar book. And you learn to write not just join words. I thought bad. Pretty 420chan bad.
Lack face, knowing the rules of the "why" not helped you to read better. You have a perfect name: "Lack" of imagination &